


All That Heaven Allows

by Nyssa23



Category: Firefly
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Character of Color, Christianity, F/M, Interracial Relationship, Intimacy, Married Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-16
Updated: 2010-08-16
Packaged: 2017-10-11 03:19:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/107766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyssa23/pseuds/Nyssa23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zoe and Wash's post-crime ritual.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All That Heaven Allows

**Author's Note:**

> This is set sometime before "War Stories."
> 
> Written for the LJ comm choc_fic, prompt _Firefly, Zoe/Wash: Washing one's partner after injury - 'Cause I got something on my mind / that sets me straight and walkin' proud / And I want all the time / all that heaven will allow. _

Zoe walked unsteadily back up the ramp into Serenity's interior, one hand pressed to her side. It had been a rough job and no mistake, but they were back, and paid, and relatively safe. Now there was just one more worrisome matter she had to face. Wincing, she braced herself as the footsteps pelted down the corridor.

"_Lao tien!_" Wash came running at her, shirt flapping, eyes bugging. "Zoe! Honey! You're hurt. Should I get Simon? I'll get Simon. Are you bleeding? Oh God, you're bleeding. Where the hell is Simon--" He ran back up into the interior.

Even over the din of the ramp closing back up into the ship, she could hear Mal suppressing a chuckle. As she turned, he choked it back down into a cough and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "'Scuse me--it's a mite dusty in here."

Zoe sharpened her gaze just a touch. "You were sayin' something, sir?"

Mal looked down, suddenly fascinated with the sight of his own shoe. "He's, uh, right. Best get that seen to now, huh?"

***  
After Simon had patched what was needful, Zoe resigned herself to letting her husband fuss over her awhile. Wash helped her to the bathtub and poured in some warm water. "So, how'd everything go? Besides the whole getting-yourself-shot thing."

Zoe clicked her tongue. "It's just a graze. Had plenty worse in the war." She could feel Wash tense up at that. She knew it bothered him when she talked about the war, but sometimes it was hard to _not_ talk about it, things being what they were with her and Mal. Still and all, she thought he would have figured out by now which one of them she'd married.

Wash held out a small cloth. "Mind if I help you out?" She didn't, and he was gentle as he lathered up the cloth and soaped her, stopping just short of Simon's neat stitching. Zoe could feel his hands lingering over other scars, other stories not yet told. She closed her eyes, wondering why he made such a ritual of this each time.

But deep down, really, she knew the reason. Neither of them wanted to admit that there was a chance each time she went out on a job that she might have to be carried back, or not make it back at all. One day Wash might have to do this and wrap her, not in a clean soft flannel, but a winding-sheet. That was the agreement he had made with her the day they'd bound themselves to one another: that their kind of life had an uncommon good chance of ending badly, and that between them they would just have to do their damnedest to keep that day as far in the future as possible. Until then, they'd take every day the Lord would let them have.


End file.
